Part 85

"At first he wanted ambrosia, wine, women - for fertilizer! Ridiculous! He talked! And talked. The more he talked the less he decided to charge. We waited quietly." The gardener smiled.

"His charges dropped?"

"His charges dropped!"

"Still we waited! Aha! Finally he agreed that it was all ours, if we would give him just one bottle of wine and agree to move everything within 3 days! Oh, he was a cute rascal! We just outwitted him. Yes, eventually, he came our way. Merely a matter of waiting." The gardener's smile broadened.

"Yes," Zeus mused. "A cute rascal, indeed!"

"So, this callow youth, this dunce from the barnyards, practically gave away his, eh, merchandise?"

"And did you, eh, move all this fertilizer? Within 3 days?"

"Oh, yes, sire. Indeed we did. We didn't want to give him the chance of changing his mind. I had to call on all the Gods - save yourself, Sire - to get the job done. Such dedication. Even Hera carried her share. Lovely wife, Sire, lovely!"

The gardener smiled. Zeus nodded somewhat glumly.

"And we gave him 5 bottles of wine to insure he gave no further thought to the fertilizer or the stables."

"What! What is this! Stables! Did you say Stables!" Zeus brow was dark, and the clouds above Olympus now roiled and flashes of lighting lit the dour sky.

"Why, yes, sire. It seems that, through negligence, the stables had not been cleaned in - well, in a long time. One might say they were a bit ripe."

"And the horses! Poor things! They were indeed in need of washing and curry-combing."

"But, to the matter at hand. Yes, stables they were. And full to the brim with excellent fertilizer. Oh, such gardens as we shall have this spring! I'm sure you will be well pleased."

Zeus sniffed the air. Zeus seemed to be not well pleased. He was muttering to himself.

"Callow youth? Stables? Fertilizer? I will have his head . . .! Buying it from him with my own goods! Inconceivable!"

"Had all the Gods and Goddesses hard at work. That's something I've never accomplished. Ah, perhaps he might fit in well at Olympus!"

Dionysius sat quietly in the prow of the boat. The ferryman was silent, merely guided the craft on its way. The craft moved of its own volition.

"How come I here? Who are you? And what is this body of water on which we float?"

The ferryman stared at him in steely silence.

Dionysius glanced around, studied the ferryman, the boat, the dark liquid on which they floated.

"I was condemned, and the execution was for tomorrow. I had venison for supper - stupid cook burned it badly, gravy was tasteless. Then I slept. Someone roused me and we went to the execution chamber. They readied me for the blade. I remember cursing them soundly, one and all. I was bound and the executioner made ready. Did I faint? Did you rescue me, or was it another? What pay do you expect for this service? I am a poor man, so don't expect too much!"

Although the air was dark and gloomy Dionysius was beginning to feel cheerful.

"However it was done, I am thankful. And you shall all be rewarded. Before I stabbed the old priest I learned from him the location of the temple's treasure. I saw it with my own eyes. Jewels, money, golden goblets and silver. Yes, indeed, you shall be rewarded."

He smiled.

He sniffed the air.

"The sewers must lead into this stream, the smell of burning sulfur irritates my eyes. How much farther until we reach shore? There is a strangely unpleasant odor about this place. I like it not. Will you speak, or shall I toss you into this filthy stream!"

He rose, stepped toward the silent figure.